


Star-Crossed

by highqualitynot



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: (for now) - Freeform, Crushes, Cuddling, Fluff, Identity Porn, Idiots in Love, Miscommunication, Multi, Mutual Pining, Pining, Pranks, Slow Burn, Star metaphors, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, the slowest of burns
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-30
Updated: 2019-11-28
Packaged: 2020-09-30 23:11:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20455118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/highqualitynot/pseuds/highqualitynot
Summary: how can you say you'll be mine?everything keeps us apartand I'm not the one you were meant to find---Harley leaned out the window and his smile was so beautiful that Spider-Man almost fell from a hundred stories up.Oh, parting is such sweet sorrow, Spider-Man thought, then immediately scowled at himself for thinking of the stupidest love story in existence. The line was poetic nonetheless, and certainly relevant.Star-crossed lovers, the two of them. Spider-Man wanted what he knew he could never have.---say you were made to be minenothing could keep us apartyou'd be the one I was meant to find





	1. interstellar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i could not be more excited to share this with you! 
> 
> it's not only the biggest thing i've ever written but it's also just a lot of fun. well except for the parts where i cried. that was... not as fun. 
> 
> anyway i think you'll enjoy it! 
> 
> thanks to my lovely betas: [nat](https://harleydeservesbetterkeener.tumblr.com/) and [izzy](https://offbrand-celestial.tumblr.com/) as well as everyone else i sent excerpts and screenshots to from this fic!

Peter crashed into his seat at the cafeteria table, smacking his face right into the twelve hundred page AP Biology textbook that he had just laid out before him. He groaned into the textbook, closing his eyes for a few moments of peace.

Ned gave him an encouraging pat on the back. “What’s up, man?”

“I haven’t taken a breath for eighty whole minutes,” Peter wheezed. 

“You did the Taxonomy test?” MJ guessed.

“Fuck Taxonomy,” Peter whined. “I miss you, Molecular Biology. Baby, come back…”

Harley crunched a chip loudly. “Nerd!” 

Peter distantly registered himself replying with a “No, you,” as he threw his textbook in his backpack. When he sat back up, he couldn't help but look towards the very smug Harley in front of him. Peter felt a smile drift onto his face. 

“Anything _fun_ happen to you guys this morning?” Peter asked the whole table. 

“I really fucked up announcing the weather this morning,” Betty said. “I said it would drizzle, and honestly? It’s barely sprinkling. The least the sky could do is listen to my advice.”

“You did fine,” Ned assured his girlfriend. “Plus, everyone else listens to your advice.”

“I hate New York weather,” Harley complained. 

“You hate everything about New York,” Peter said.

Harley’s eyebrows knit together. “Not everything!”

Peter rolled his eyes. MJ started before he could reply. “The most important news of all is that AcaDeca is extra long today.”

Peter winced. “Well, uh, MJ, you see…”

She turned the full force of her glare on him and he grinned, embarrassed. When Peter spoke, his words strung together. He pushed out some tangled, stammered mess about having to leave early, not even managing to give an excuse.

Harley blinked in confusion. “Well, I can stay the whole time. Tony said nothing big ‘til tomorrow. What are you up to, Parker?”

Ignoring the heat in his cheeks, Peter attempted to find an excuse. “I… uh…” 

MJ, surprisingly, answered for him. “It doesn't matter why, just that he better not miss next practice.”

With a mental note to thank her later, Peter dug into his lunch. It was last night’s Thai leftovers, but by the time he was done he had stolen food from everyone else, too. Not from MJ, of course, but Betty would usually give him a bit, Ned would give him plenty, and Harley sometimes even brought an extra sandwich for him. It made him feel warm inside, that his friend cared about him that much.

He was really lucky to call Harley his friend. To be honest, when they’d first met, Harley had definitely hated him.

_“Peter, I want you to meet Harley, the current heir to SI and the biggest little shit I know. Harley, this is Peter. My personal intern and total annoyance,” Tony introduced them. He sauntered out of the lab to attend a meeting, abandoning the two teens._

_Peter turned his focus to the boy in front of him. _

_Harley was his age, a mechanical genius, and essentially Pepper’s adopted son. He was being groomed to become the next CEO of Stark Industries, and he had some sort of confident air about him. _

_Even if Peter didn't already know practically everything about him from Tony’s jokes and stories, he would have been intimidated by Harley._

_Nonetheless, he was determined to leave a good first impression. _

_“Hi, Harley!” Peter said excitedly. He held out his hand for Harley to shake. When Harley made no move to reciprocate, Peter awkwardly pulled his arm back. “Mr. Stark told me lots about you.”_

_“Mr. Stark?” Harley scoffed. It wasn't so much haughty as it was disbelieving, and most certainly a little irritated. “You call the old man Mr. Stark?”_

_Peter looked away. He still called Tony that on the outside, out of respect, but tended to think of him more firmly as Tony. Sometimes as Dad… but that wasn't important. _

_“So?” he mumbled. _

_Harley turned around to get to work on a lab project. “So, I just think it’s stupid to call him that when you're clearly close.” There was a note of bitterness in his voice. Peter frowned, confused. _

_Not only had Harley known Tony and Pepper for much longer than Peter, he was set to become the CEO of Stark Industries. Why did he sound so upset?_

_Tony had specifically introduced him as his personal intern. Not as Spider-Man, not as anything else. _

_Upon realizing how long their awkward silence had dragged on for, Peter rapidly launched into another sentence. _

_“It's just out of respect,” he explained. _

_“Whatever,” Harley replied. He was already ignoring Peter, working on a little robot. Peter decided to ignore him too and get to work on his own project._

Peter blinked himself out of the memory when Harley handed him some sort of candy.

“Ugh, thank you so much. I could kiss you right now!” he said, putting it in his mouth without a second thought.

The second thought came a few moments later when his mouth started tingling unpleasantly. The heavy scent of peppermint filled his nose and throat, choking him.

“Shit, Harley, was that a-” he coughed. “A peppermint?”

“Yeah?” Harley said. His cheeks were a little pink, but Peter couldn't think of a reason why. Plus, he was a little distracted by how much the stupid candy burned.

Peter pulled the candy out of his mouth and swallowed thickly, his throat aching. “I need… uh, water. I gotta…” 

He trailed off, but Ned got it and handed him a bottle of water. Peter drained it swiftly and gasped for air. 

“Anything else?” Ned said, concerned. 

“No, I’m alright now,” Peter managed. His throat still stung, but it was getting easier to breathe. “I think.”

“Are you allergic to peppermints?” Harley asked, eyes wide. 

“Yeah, it sucks,” Peter admitted. At the sight of Harley's terrified expression, he immediately changed gears. “But, really, it’s not that bad! I swear, I’m fine.”

Harley apologized a mile a minute, and even though Peter insisted that it wasn't his fault, he kept saying he was sorry.

“Really, Harley,” Peter said. “You don't need to make such a big deal out of it. I’m alright.”

“I’m really sorry,” Harley said, again. He took Peter’s hand in his. While normally, Peter would flinch away from the touch, he let his hand linger. Harley was warm. “I shoulda checked first, or done something, at least.”

“It’s a little weird seeing you this sincere,” Peter said. “Stop worrying so much, you didn't do anything wrong.”

Harley gave him more apologies, and sent him a smile that made his mind go blank when the bell rang and they finally had to seperate.

His mind went blank around Harley a lot, Peter realized, as he watched that honey blond ponytail bounce away.

Harley, who had a sharp wit and a sharper jawline. Harley, who was sarcastic and crude, but kind and caring. Harley, who loved teasing everyone but gave the most sincere compliments when he wasn't. Harley was everything. 

He… he liked Harley. As more than just a friend. 

It terrified him.

\---

Harley was on the roof of Stark Tower, nose buried in a physics book. He was jolted out of equations and gravitational pull by the voice of a superhero. 

“Hey, Harley,” Spider-Man said, landing lightly next to the other boy. 

Harley smiled like an idiot. “Hi, Spidey.” He hoped his reaction was subtle, but he also knew he was probably redder than the superhero’s mask.

Despite not knowing who he really was, Harley found Spider-Man really interesting. He knew the guy from all of Spidey’s Stark Tower visits and all of Tony’s Avengers parties (as well as stalking his twitter and instagram religiously). But in all honesty, Harley didn't really know him. He wanted to know him, for sure. Harley wanted to learn his name, know his personality, see his face.

“What are you up to?” Spider-Man asked, drawing Harley out of his thoughts by leaning casually against his chair.

“Trying my best to study,” Harley said, waving his physics notebook around wildly. He debated throwing it off the tower, but decided against it in favour of getting a half decent grade on the next test.

“You want a break?”

God, did he ever? “Are you offering one?” 

“I know a place with a killer view. Just a hop, swing and a jump away from here,” Spider-Man explained. 

Harley gazed at the New York City skyline. Not a single star glittered in the sky, but the buildings glowed with light. 

Peter had been wrong earlier that day; there were many things he liked about NYC. The views, the food, the people. Especially his friends, like Peter himself. Some days, Harley wondered if they could be more than friends.

But that was just wishful thinking. He’d practically poisoned the guy at lunch that day, after all. He’d apologized immediately, feeling immensely guilty, but Peter brushed it off like nothing happened. He was way too nice for his own good sometimes.

“The view here is pretty hard to beat,” Harley said. He tossed his notebook carelessly to the floor, standing up to look Spider-Man in the eyes (of his suit). He was a few inches taller than the superhero, Harley realized, and took a small amount of pleasure in that knowledge.

Spider-Man held out a hand, and Harley took it earnestly. Before he knew it, they had fallen off the building.

Harley’s heart leapt into his throat as the street seemed to grow closer faster and faster, taxis and other vehicles larger every second. He clutched tightly to the red and blue hero at his side and bit his lip nervously. 

Some part of him knew Spider-Man would never let him fall, though.

The air whistled past them as they flew through the streets. The romantic orange glow made Harley’s cheeks flush as he held on with everything he had, strands of his own hair disobeying his hair tie and blowing messily across his face. He whooped ecstatically, head fuzzy with excitement and adrenaline. 

It felt like flying.

Spider-Man spun in mid air, twirling Harley around over the city. He laughed in pure wonder, high off the sights and sounds of New York and the superhero with him. 

“This is amazing!” He shouted, having no clue how loud his voice was. 

It must have been rather loud, as Spider-Man flinched before replying. “There's nothing better in the world.”

Before he knew it, they had returned to Stark Tower. Harley was breathless. He picked up his fallen physics notebook.

“I thought you were bringing me somewhere with a better view?” He managed, still catching his breath.

Spider-Man laughed, legs dangling off the side of the building as he watched the sunset. “Every street in this city is its own view, Princess.”

Harley shivered at the nickname. He sat down next to the superhero, carefully keeping his legs tucked under him so as not to risk falling. Spider-Man would probably catch him, but Harley had a healthy respect for heights. Not a fear, a healthy respect. 

No, it was a fear. Swinging through the streets of New York City with only one of Spider-Man’s webs holding them up had been terrifying. But also kind of fantastic. Harley smiled as he turned to look at the hero.

“It impresses me,” Harley said. “The way you romanticize a city crawling with so many people. And rats… and rat-like people.”

Spider-Man turned towards Harley. Even though Harley couldn't see his face, he got the strong sense that the superhero was smiling fondly. 

“It’s home.”

Harley opened his mouth to speak, but before anything embarrassing (along the lines of ‘Take off your mask so I can kiss you!’) came out, Spider-Man was gone. 

He watched as the superhero fell from the tower, waving as he plummeted towards the ground. Despite the clear risk involved in stunts such as leaping off of skyscrapers backwards, Spider-Man seemed relaxed and at peace as he flung a web up to the place he had been sitting only moments before, using it to slingshot himself to the next building. 

He swung away, towards the sunset. Harley gazed out at Spider-Man’s city in wonder.

It was so beautiful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my tumblr is [@high-quality-not](https://high-quality-not.tumblr.com/)
> 
> yes i was projecting like hell about the taxonomy part. molecular biology rights! anyway
> 
> this chapter is rather short, especially when compared to the others (im looking at u, chapter 5. how the fuck did i end up with 5k words??). and also... not my favourite. but it gets better i SWEAR. stick with me
> 
> i've written six out of the nine chapters i have planned so updates could be a little slow. i hope you enjoyed nonetheless!


	2. wavelength

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is for [laila](https://disasterwiccan.tumblr.com/) good job eating your fruit and vegetables!
> 
> thanks again to [izzy](https://offbrand-celestial.tumblr.com/) and [nat](https://harleydeservesbetterkeener.tumblr.com) for betaing! is that a word? it is now. fuck u spellcheck
> 
> you may note that this is the chapter the excerpt from the description was taken from! easily one of my favourites among the seven i have written atm. 
> 
> i hope you enjoy!

It had been a week since he’d gone swinging around New York with Spider-Man, and Harley was losing his goddamn mind. 

Every night, he waited on the roof of Stark Tower, and every night, Spider-Man didn't show. 

He even went so far as to ask Tony what Spider-Man was doing. 

“He’s been really busy with all the, y’know, superheroing,” Tony told him. “Fighting crime and all that. Barely even uses his twitter, and I swear that little shit is always on social media in his suit.”

Harley frowned. He turned to his favourite hobby in times of crisis: annoying everyone around him. 

Harley began by bursting into Peter’s room in Stark Tower where the boy in question was taking an exhausted nap. 

Harley wondered why Peter seemed so constantly tired as of late, but ignored it in favour of waking him up to help in his mission of ruining the Avengers’ lives.

Around the time the Avengers moved back into the heart of New York, Harley and his little sister left Tennessee. Pepper had gained legal guardianship of both Abbie and him, and brought them up to NYC enthusiastically. 

Their rooms were in a floor just for the kids; one for Abbie, Harley, Peter, Morgan, even the Barton kids had rooms. If Pepper and Tony kept pseudo-adopting children, they would run out of rooms!

It was incredibly convenient, if a little harrowing, that his crush had a room right across from his own.

“Peter, I desperately need your help.” 

Peter groaned and rolled over, throwing an arm over his eyes. “Harls, is that you?” 

“Yes. You’re the only one I want as my accomplice to this prank,” Harley replied, opening Peter’s blackout curtains. It wasn't completely true; if Abbie had been around, he most certainly would have asked her first. Their combined propensity for trouble-making was a perfect storm of madness. 

Abbie, however, was hanging out at Clint’s house with Lila. Harley had his own suspicions about Lila Barton and his sister, but in the meantime, he needed Peter’s help.

“Up ‘n at ‘em, Petes.” 

Peter pushed up onto his elbows, still looking half-asleep. A rumpled, oversized shirt that Harley was about 90% sure actually belonged to him was one of the first things Harley saw before his eyes focused on his crush’s face. 

Peter’s eyes were like chocolate, swirling depths of beautiful brown. Harley couldn't breathe. 

“Why am I awake right now?” he mumbled.

Harley tried to remember why he had come into Peter’s room in the first place. “Uh, I… wanted your help with a prank?”

Peter stretched, head tipping back and exposing pale collarbone to Harley’s wandering eyes. “You wanna replace the OJ with cheese sauce again?”

His voice was low and gravelly, his hair was a total mess of coffee-coloured curls, and Harley was totally, unequivocally obsessed with him. 

Whatever inner voice he had that previously insisted he was going to take it slow and see if what he and Peter had could be something more had been getting quieter and quieter over the last few weeks. Harley really, really liked Peter. 

“No… no, uh, you know how like _all _the Avengers hate brussel sprouts more than all the villains they’ve fought combined?” 

Peter nodded, throwing off his bajillion blankets and properly getting up out of bed.

“And you know how all the Avengers love chocolate?” 

Peter pulled off his shirt. Harley’s mouth watered as he gazed, seeing back muscles, and good lord, his shoulders. Harley wanted to touch, he wanted to taste, he wanted to-

Peter threw on a dumb science pun t-shirt from the floor and turned back to Harley. “You want to make chocolate-covered brussel sprouts?” 

“Hell yes!” Harley shouted, smacking the nearest object, which happened to be Peter’s dresser.

He winced and rubbed his hand, pain stinging just enough to be frustrating. 

“Hey, you okay?” Peter asked, lightly grabbing his hand. 

“Yeah, it’s not a big deal,” Harley replied. “You know what is a big deal? Tricking the Avengers into unwittingly eating chocolate-covered brussel sprouts. It’s my- no,_ our_, destiny. This is some written-in-the-stars bullshit.”

Peter laughed. “Alright, lemme get ready and I’ll help you.”

“You can’t cook, though,” Harley blurted out in realization. Maybe he could figure out a different prank that didn't involve bringing Peter anywhere near the fridge… “Uh, sorry. I just realized… last time you were in the kitchen, there was a fire. A huge fire. In my mouth. You used way too much hot sauce. It was not okay.”

Some distant part of him registered that Peter was still holding his hand. 

“I can bake! Just not cook,” Peter insisted. “Also, that was like a month ago. I was young and dumb. I’ve matured since then.”

Harley was completely worn down by those chocolate brown eyes, and he agreed before leaving to let Peter get ready. 

“FRIDAY? Can you order a pound of brussel sprouts and get them here asap?” 

\---

“How are you so bad at this?”

“I can cook! Just not bake…” Harley sighed.

Peter looked between the bowl of improperly melted chocolate and Harley’s miserable frown. 

His eyes were wide, blue turning watery where it was typically icy. The little pout formed by Harley’s mouth indicated that it wasn't true misery so much as it was embarrassment, and Peter’s suspicions were confirmed by the blush coating Harley’s cheeks. 

It made his freckles stand out. Little golden flecks. Like stars.

Peter looked back towards the chocolate before he started blushing too. 

“How about I handle the chocolate and you stick to grabbing ingredients and dipping brussel sprouts?” he suggested. 

“That sounds like a great plan,” Harley replied, relieved.

Peter dumped his chocolate monstrosity into the trash and retrieved a new bag of chocolate straight from the pantry, which he emptied into the saucepan. 

“Hmm, sugar?” Harley said. 

“What is it, Harley?” Peter replied without thinking, turning the knobs of the oven in order to adjust the heat. He felt totally gooey inside that Harley called him pet names like that, until he replied.

“I was just wondering if you knew where the powdered sugar was?” Harley turned to face Peter slowly, confused.

Peter’s mouth was agape and he could feel a blush coating his cheeks. “Uhm, I think it's in the pantry?” 

Harley nodded and went to go get it. 

Once he was out of sight, Peter buried his face in his hands and whined, embarrassed beyond belief. 

He only really realized how much he liked Harley a week before! But there he was, making a total fool out of himself. Every time he saw those blue eyes or that blond ponytail, he did something stupid. It was inevitable. 

By the time Harley returned, Peter had already switched to lightly whisking the milk chocolate into a liquid, desperately trying not to think of how much he liked Harley.

“Alright, let’s dip those brussels!” Harley shouted.

From there, it was simply a matter of dipping the sprouts into the chocolate, adding toppings, allowing them to set, and placing them in delicate golden wrappers to prepare them for their wrongful consumption. 

Harley hummed as he opened a can of pop to celebrate their fake chocolates, leaning lazily against the counter. “They’re gonna hate these, Peter. I can’t wait.” 

“Yeah.”

Peter clinked his Sprite against Harley’s can of Coke with a smile, but before either of them could take a sip Tony Stark slid out of the elevator. Literally, slid.

“Are you wearing heely crocs?” Peter gaped. 

Tony slapped the side of his shoe enthusiastically, the fiery red material making an unsatisfying noise. “Aren't they great? I even got Iron Man jibbitz!”

“They’re awful,” Pepper replied, following him out of the elevator and into the kitchen. “I hate them.”

Harley had a maniacal grin on his face as he handed Tony a chocolate. “You deserve a reward for having the best shoes in the world.” 

Tony nodded in agreement and began to unwrap the chocolate. 

Harley looked like he was about to burst from trying so hard not to laugh. Peter reached out and lightly squeezed his hand, reminding him the delivery was essential to the prank. Harley turned towards him, ponytail whipping in the other direction from the speed.

“I-uh, Peter and I made these!” he told Tony, voice cracking loudly. 

Peter smiled, shaking his head. Harley was so fucking cute, holy shit. So cute…

He was staring. A lot. He probably needed to stop staring at Harley and instead focus on the victim of the faux chocolates.

Tony raised a single, skeptical eyebrow. But he shrugged it off and tossed the chocolate straight into his mouth. 

The expression on Tony’s face when his taste buds realized he was eating a brussel sprout was utterly magnificent. He spat it out in complete horror, disgust coating his face as he spun disastrously backwards to get himself a glass of water. “The betrayal, the disrespect, the cruelty. In my own home?”

He crashed into the trash can while trying to throw the sprout away. Peter snorted in amusement and told FRIDAY to save the video.

As glorious as their prank had been, it paled in comparison to Harley. 

He was radiant; all charming smile and gleaming eyes. Peter was unable to look away. The air left his lungs completely. For a few moments, he just stood there, trying to breathe again without drowning in the sea of icy blue before him.

“I hate you, both of you,” Tony announced, struggling to get past the garbage can in neverending frustration. “You’re terrible people and I’m never speaking to you again.”

“They’re fantastic people,” Pepper said, shoulders shaking as she laughed. Then she blew Tony a kiss, like the absolute legend she was. 

“FRIDAY, delete that video right now!”

Pepper held up a finger. “FRIDAY, as the CEO of Stark Industries, I insist that you ignore that.”

“Of course, Mrs. Stark-Potts.” 

Tony hissed in anger and heelied himself back onto the elevator to go sulk. Pepper followed him, still laughing her head off.

Peter was about to high-five Harley when he realized their hands were still joined. 

He gently separated them, and Harley shot him a confused look. Peter lined up their hands and gave him a high-five, smiling cheekily even as his heart ached for Harley.

Harley gave him a matching bright grin that stayed in Peter’s memories even as he left the kitchen.

\---

“Hey, FRIDAY? Where’s Peter now? I’ve witnessed a crime and I cannot be silent about it.”

“In the training deck on Floor 64,” the AI replied. 

Some part of Harley found that incredibly bizarre, but he hopped in the elevator despite it and headed to find Peter. 

Harley let out a strangled gasp as he entered the training deck. He was actually training in there, and while some part of Harley was definitely surprised, the other recalled the strong abs he sometimes felt under Peter’s sweaters during their hugs. 

Oh, and the way his back had looked earlier that afternoon. Harley’s view was even better this time than during the incident in Peter’s bedroom: he could see almost everything.

Peter was flushed pink from working out, wearing nothing but a pair of shorts. Harley’s eyes traced pecs and biceps, unable to stop looking. Stop looking, stop- 

“Hey Harls,” he said.

Harley painstakingly dragged his eyes up to meet his friend’s eyes. “Hey-y, there, Peter.”

His throat was so dry, and Peter’s chest was practically glistening from the sweat… Harley had to clench his teeth tight and swallow in order to keep from doing something utterly inappropriate to his crush. No, his friend. Peter was just his friend. “What are you up to?”

Peter smiled awkwardly. He looked caught off guard, the exhausted flush of his cheeks taking on more of an embarrassed hue. “Just… working out. Ya know?”

Harley laughed. “Since when do you work out? I thought you were a nerd, Peter. Don't tell me I’m friends with a jock.” Peter was a nerd. A nerd with the most insane set of abs Harley had ever seen. 

Peter gasped in mock horror. “Fuck you! I would never be a jock.”

He placed his hand on his hip, shifting his weight towards Harley. They were so close, Harley could lean in and they would be kissing. He stared at the chiseled lines next to Peter’s hand, biting back a whimper at the way they essentially formed an arrow pointing right towards Peter’s-

Wait… he was supposed to respond. Somehow. “Uh… well, I just wanted to tell you that Steve ate like, all the chocolate-covered brussel sprouts. He, uh, he told me he liked them, so Captain America has officially committed treason.”

“Eugh, that’s so gross,” Peter said, sticking out his tongue. “Almost as gross as me. I need to take a shower. Talk to you later?”

“Y-Yeah, right.” 

Don’t think about showering together, do not think about- 

Harley’s pants were far too tight. He ensured Peter was completely out of eyesight before dashing into the elevator in complete mortification. 

\---

It was probably too late.

It was two in the morning and Spider-Man sat on the roof of Stark Tower, unsure what to do. Patrol had run somewhat late, a few muggers more than usual. It had been a chaotic week, the crime rates in New York skyrocketing without any explanation.

He wanted to see Harley. 

It was stupid. For one thing, it was two in the morning. In addition, Spider-Man did _not_ know Harley the way Peter did. They swung around the city one time, and Spider-Man had flirted with Harley. That was it. 

“Karen, check his socials. Is Harley active?” 

Karen pulled several late night tweets up for him to see. Harley was awake. 

“It’s still stupid, isn't it?” Spider-Man complained to her. “I could just text him as Peter. That would work, wouldn't it?” 

“I agree.” Karen replied.

He groaned anyway. “I want to _see_ him, though.”

He spent essentially the entire day with Harley but still wanted to see more of him. Harley had him wrapped around his finger.

Spider-Man sighed as he flopped down onto the side of the building, taking a moment to just sit there, completely against the laws of gravity, and think about how much of an idiot-

A window was going to open on the side of the tower. 

Spidey sense correct as always, the clicking noise of a Stark Tower window sounded from below him. 

Spider-Man curiously scuttled down the side of the tower, standing a few feet from the window. He cautiously peered through to see Harley sitting at his desk, tinkering with a little robot. 

Spider-Man knocked on the window. 

Despite his earbuds, Harley jolted and then turned to see Spider-Man. He pulled the earbuds out and grinned wide, cheeks pink as he opened the window. Spider-Man prayed it was for reasons other than the chilly New York air.

“Hi, Spidey,” he said. 

Harley wore a grey tank top and a pair of sweats. His hair was loose from its usual ponytail, falling messily over his shoulders. Eyes like starlight, he was utterly perfect. 

Spider-Man allowed himself to check out his biceps in the shirt. He swallowed thickly, wondering exactly how much time Harley spent working beneath cars, and whether he would rather spend time beneath- 

Wait, he had to reply. 

“Hi Harley. What are you doing up at 2am?” Spider-Man asked. 

“I could ask you the same question,” Harley said.

“I’m fighting crime,” he replied. “You’re building some kind of robot.”

“It’s an i-Dog. I wanted to try to make one.”

Spider-Man pulled himself through the window and leaned over to see. It was a red & gold version of the original toy he knew so well.

“I love it. I had one just like it as a kid, but blue. What’s its name?” 

Harley beamed and Spider-Man thanked every deity he could think of that his mask covered his blushing face. 

“His name is Iron Dog, because I think it’ll make Tony mad.”

Spider-Man laughed. “You’re pretty special, Princess.”

Harley’s cheeks turned redder than Iron Dog. He gave a shy smile, so soft that Spider-Man decided he should come around more just to see that blush again. 

“Hey, I’m really sorry for not being around for a week.” 

Harley blinked at him owlishly, as if he hadn't expected Spider-Man to address it at all. “Well, ‘s fine. I just made life really hard for all the Avengers. Pranked the shit out of ‘em.”

“I’m glad. Did you know I stole Cap’s shield once?” 

“What?” Harley said. “No way!”

“Yeah, in Germany. It was wild.” Spider-Man started to walk up Harley’s wall until he was on the ceiling, flipping upside down to make direct eye contact with Harley. “We’re chill now, though.”

“What else can you tell me about the Avengers?”

“You spend time with them too,” Spider-Man replied. “But I guess I’ve fought with them more. And fought them more.” 

He dropped off the ceiling, doing a lazy backflip. It was totally worth it to see Harley's gasp of amazement. He kind of liked showing off this much. 

Especially for a boy this cute. 

Some kind of rugged handsomeness seemed to be the main symptom of Harley’s late-night robotics. He made tired eyes and messy hair endlessly attractive. 

A small part of Spider-Man wanted to reach out and kiss him in that instant, pull him close and never let him go. 

Spider-Man was an idiot, but not that much of an idiot.

He crashed onto Harley’s bed (which was ludicrously comfortable despite having far fewer pillows and blankets than his own). “You shoulda seen Bucky’s face when I talked to him for the first time. He was all, holy shit, I just threw hands with a fifteen-year old and he caught my punch.”

Harley put Iron Dog down and gaped at him. “You fought the Winter Soldier for the first time in Germany, right? You were fifteen? Holy shit, you’re my age!”

Spider-Man went through every stage of grief in an instant. He deepened his voice awkwardly. “No, I’m uh, I’m a man. I’m as old as Bucky. We fought in the 1940s.”

“Nah, I ain’t buyin’ it,” Harley said. His voice was high and excited, a thick accent creeping between his words. “You’re my age!” 

“He sure is, which means he should be in bed according to his curfew.”

The door flung open and the familiar voice of Tony Stark announced his presence. 

“What are you two doing up?” 

Like a deer caught in the headlights, Spider-Man stammered out an answer. “Fighting crime?”

“Building robots?” Harley tried.

"No, you're flirting, and _you're_-" Tony pointed at Spider-Man in fond exasperation "-getting footprints on Harley's ceiling!"

All three turned to look at the spot where Spider-Man had just been standing. Sure enough, there were several footprints there. 

Wait a second, Tony thought they were flirting? 

Spider-Man blushed beneath his mask. There he was, calling Harley pet names and swinging around the city telling Karen about him… oh no, Tony probably had access to his searches with Karen. Tony knew about his huge, embarrassing crush on Harley. Tony… was shaking his head in frustration.

“Both of you, go get some sleep,” he groaned, massaging his temples. 

“That’s rich, coming from you,” Harley whispered, voice near silent but easy to pick up with enhanced hearing. “I ain’t never seen you sleep more than four hours at a time.” 

“What was that?” Tony said, scrutinizing gaze focused on Harley. 

“Nothin’,” Harley replied, at full volume once again. 

Tony sighed and shook his head, muttering something about stupid teenagers as he closed the door behind him.

“Until a later date, Princess,” Spider-Man said, already sliding out the window and hooking a web to the top of the tower that he could use akin to a firefighter pole. He spun lazily as he began his descent.

Harley leaned out the window and his smile was so beautiful that Spider-Man almost fell from a hundred stories up. 

Oh, parting is such sweet sorrow, Spider-Man thought, then immediately scowled at himself for thinking of the stupidest love story in existence. Whatever. The line was poetic nonetheless, and certainly relevant.

Star-crossed lovers, the two of them. Spider-Man wanted what he knew he could never have.

He barely caught Harley’s final words, a breathy sigh in the midst of New York’s early morning traffic:

“Goodbye, Spider-Man.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> check me out on tumblr [@high-quality-not](https://high-quality-not.tumblr.com/)
> 
> hahaha it's so fluffy now. so happy. i wrote this so long ago and it's so tooth-rottingly sweet especially compared to what's to come for this fic. 
> 
> but no spoilers. >;3c 
> 
> we'll get there soon enough


	3. celestial

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> holy fuckk are we already on chapter three?? hell yea bois
> 
> this chapter is for everyone in the shenanigan crew who loves flash and wants him to have a redemption arc
> 
> in particular give love to [izzy](https://offbrand-celestial.tumblr.com/) and [nat](https://harleydeservesbetterkeener.tumblr.com) for being the best betas mwah ilysm
> 
> enjoy!

The chaotic sounds of students’ voices were absolute hell on Harley’s headache. 

It certainly didn't help that he was exhausted from a late night spent working on Iron Dog and flirting with Spider-Man. 

Flirting! With Spider-Man! Harley smiled like an idiot. He was finally getting to know Spider-Man a little better. 

Lord knows he had pestered Tony enough about the red and blue hero.

_“I’m losing my goddamn mind!” Harley desperately clenched the sleeve of Tony’s Armani suit. “That’s Spider-Man! Right over there!” _

_Tony whirled around to look in the direction he was pointing. “Yeah, that’s the Spider-Kid.” _

_“How are you so chill about this? This is a party with like, every superhero ever.”_

_“I see them all the time. Jesus, kid, I am a superhero.” Tony rolled his eyes. “Trust me, Spider-Man is actually a total dork.” _

_“I don't believe you at all,” Harley said, taking a sip of his non-alcoholic sangria. “He’s like… my second favourite superhero. No offense.”_

_“What do you mean ‘no offense’?” Tony asked, an incredulous gape coating his features. “Who’s in first?”_

_“Iron Man is first, duh,” Harley said. “Tony Stark, however, is in third.”_

_The joke fell completely flat as Tony’s eyes grew misty in awe. “I’m really your favourite superhero?” _

_“Well, yeah,” Harley replied, rubbing the back of his neck. “You’re like, my favourite person in general.” _

_“Other than Abbie?”_

_“Of course,” Harley said. “But she’s in a league of her own, so you’re basically in first place.”_

_“You two are my favourite people too, y’know,” Tony replied, in an uncharacteristically affectionate manner. He pulled Harley into a tight hug and kissed his head. “I love you.”_

_Harley swallowed to keep from tearing up as he reciprocated the hug. He failed and let a tear or two escape him anyway. “I love you too.”_

_Tragically, it was entirely ruined by Tony’s next words. “So do you want me to introduce you to Spider-Man?” _

_Harley jumped back, narrowly avoiding dumping non-alcoholic sangria all over the expensive rug on Tony’s event floor (Floor 69 of Stark Tower, chosen completely on purpose). “What are you, insane? No! Tell me everything about him so I can impress him. Then you can introduce us.”_

_Tony shook his head. “The kid’s a nerd, Harley. Wax poetic about Star Wars and he’ll probably fall head over heels in love with you.”_

_“Star Wars…” Harley mused. “Keep going, I’m gonna take notes.”_

He was jolted out of the memory by the slam of a hand on the locker next to him. 

Flash took a huge step back and gave Harley something akin to an apologetic smile, as though he hadn't intended to slap a locker.

“Hi, Harley.”

“Hey, Flash,” Harley said slowly, confused. 

Flash’s status as a popular douchebag contrasted massively with Harley’s status as a loser nerd. Of course, Harley loved being a loser nerd, but something was off. 

He had been given many nicknames in his time at Midtown, many of which could be traced back to Flash. In the same way that nobody seemed to believe that Peter had a Stark Internship, obviously nobody believed that Harley lived in Stark Tower. 

None of the nicknames stuck quite as well as ‘Penis Parker’ did for Peter, but ‘ponytail’ and ‘liar’ were certainly more common than ‘Harley’. 

“How… are you?” 

Harley furrowed his brows, uncomfortable. “What are you on?”

Before Flash could reply, a blur of blue slid between them. Harley saw fluffy brown hair and a sweater vest before anything else.

Peter practically growled at Flash, standing in front of Harley as if to shield him. Despite the fact that Peter was a solid three inches shorter than Harley and Flash could easily still see him, the bully shrunk back in fear. Peter grabbed Harley’s hand and dragged him a few feet down the hall. 

“Are you okay?” Peter asked, still holding Harley’s hand. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Harley replied, focused entirely on how rough and calloused the hand in his felt. “He was being kind of weird, that’s all.” 

“So he wasn't... bothering you?”

“Not really,” Harley said. “It’s been a solid six months since I got here, Peter, he’s not that bad.”

“Right.” Peter looked away, then back into Harley’s eyes. His voice was soft and low when he spoke again. “I just worry, y’know.” 

“Yeah,” Harley murmured. He took Peter's other hand, lacing their fingers together. Peter was worried about him. Peter cared about him. “I should get to class.” 

He let go and began to walk away, until he felt a hand grasp his sleeve. And then Peter _spun_ him around, pulling him in close until Harley’s hands rested on his chest and oh good lord he couldn't stop looking into those brown eyes. 

Peter looked surprised, as though he himself hadn't expected the move. He swallowed, and Harley watched his adam’s apple bob.

“I uh… thanks for the save, Perfect Parker,” Harley managed, hoping he sounded teasing and not like his knees were weak.

“No problem, Harls,” Peter said, voice soft and eyes absolutely glowing with happiness.

That was already more than he thought he would ever get. Surely more than he deserved. Harley let his hands drop to his sides. _Don't ruin this,_ he told himself. _Don't you dare dream of him loving you back. _

His heart fluttered rebelliously, more hopeful than his denial could ever handle. Peter cared about him.

\---

Peter turned from waving his goodbye to Harley and ran face-first into Flash. 

“Hi Peen… Peter,” Flash said. 

“Flash… Hi,” Peter grumbled, attempting to keep the frustration out of his voice. He completely failed, and Flash seemed to wince in response. 

“How are you?” He tried. 

“I’m good,” Peter replied coolly. What was this about? Be nice to Peter and then make fun of him behind his back? That one was new.

“Good. That’s… good.” Flash shoved his hands in his pockets and bounced back on his heels. 

“Okay, cut the bullshit,” Peter said. “What's wrong with you? Why are you being nice?”

Flash winced, clearly caught off-guard. “I, um. I saw you leaving AcaDeca last night.”

Peter's blood ran cold. He pulled Flash into a nearby empty classroom, and the moment the door was closed, he rounded on the bully.

“You know?”

“I… I know,” Flash said. “That you’re… uh…”

“You can say it,” he said. 

“Spider-Man!” Flash whisper-yelled. “Yeah, I was… I couldn't believe it, at first. But it… makes sense.” 

Peter bit his lip. “Right. Yeah. MJ guessed it, that's how obvious it is, apparently.”

Flash looked down, pained, then gazed back up at Peter with an apologetic frown. “I’m really sorry. For all of it.”

Peter, confused, echoed his words. “All of it?”

“The name-calling, the rumour-spreading. All the bullying,” Flash rubbed his arm in worry, but kept eye contact. “I’m really sorry, Peter. I was… jealous of you.” 

“What? Jealous of me?” 

“Yeah. Look, I’m smart, but I’m nothing next to you. I’m mostly at this school because of my parents. You’re here because you're an actual genius.” Flash leaned against a desk as he spoke. “I mean… not that being jealous is anywhere near an excuse for all that shit I did to you. And to your friends. None of that was okay.”

Peter swallowed uncomfortably. There was one more thing he needed to know. 

“If… if I wasn't Spider-Man, would you even try to apologize?”

Flash’s mouth dropped open. His knee bounced, the only movement in an otherwise still room. “If I’m being honest? I think it would have taken me a damn long time to start trying to be a better person.”

If Flash had lied and said otherwise, Peter probably wouldn't have even tried to forgive him. 

“It’s gonna be weird for a while,” Peter said. “And you’re gonna have to apologize to my friends too.” 

Flash nodded. “I was planning on doing it at next Sunday’s AcaDeca meeting, during the long weekend. I think I need the ten days to make sure I do the apology right.”

Peter’s mouth quirked up in a small smile. “Okay. That's good.”

“Can we be friends?” Flash said, then winced at his sudden outburst. 

“Because I’m Spider-Man?”

“No!” Flash bit his lip. “Well… obviously I think that's super cool. But also… I don't really know you that well.”

Peter blinked a few times, processing everything. “I don't think I’d say friends right away. But… not enemies.” 

“Not enemies,” Flash echoed. “I like the sound of that, Peter.” 

\---

Harley’s fists clenched, leaving half-moon indents on the palms of his hands as he watched Flash string together an apology that left everyone hanging off his words. Especially Peter, who sat next to Harley with an encouraging smile on his face. 

“And so, I’m really sorry for all that I’ve done. I’m working towards becoming a better person, and I hope that someday, when I really am one, all of you might consider giving me a second chance,” Flash finished. 

The majority of the AcaDeca team stared at him in some mixture of amazement and disbelief, until MJ shouted something about the end of practice at them. The students slowly began to trickle out the door as they wrapped up their meeting. 

Harley stayed there, lost in thought.

Of course Harley was happy that Flash was trying to be better. He was overjoyed that Midtown students other than his close friends had finally taken to calling him by his real name. 

The problem was that Flash was becoming like a rival for Peter’s affections. 

On Thursday, Harley made plans to start building lightsabers in the lab with Peter, but he blew Harley off to go take a walk in Central Park with Flash. 

The way Flash talked about that evening led Harley to believe it had been more than just a leisurely stroll with a friend. His eyes lit up and he beamed while talking about it. Something more had happened...

He was invading every aspect of their lives, and it made Harley want to cry. 

For God’s sake, _Flash_ had eaten at their cafeteria table on Friday! 

Even a week before, the thought of that was utterly laughable. Harley stewed in pathetic misery before he was drawn out of it by the sound of Peter’s voice. 

“I’m proud of him.” 

“Yeah, it's great that he’s working towards being better,” Harley said, the most positive words he could muster. 

“Could I invite him to movie night tonight?” Peter asked, a hopeful glimmer in his eyes. 

Harley melted at the sight of those chocolate-coloured puppy eyes. “I.. uh, yeah. Sure, Peter. Whatever you want.” 

He cringed a little at the sappy, cliche thing he’d said, but Peter seemed to take it a different way. “I’m sorry, Harls. If you aren't comfortable with it, I won't ask him.” 

Harley bit his lip, trying not to let his bitterness show. “Well… just, don't you think it's all going a little quickly? He was calling us names only two weeks ago, and now you’re practically best friends!”

“I wouldn't say we're best friends,” Peter said slowly. “I’d say that we’re on our way to becoming friends. And isn't the foundation of our friendship movie-watching anyway?” 

Harley nodded in agreement. Peter had a point. “Okay, I’ll go ask him. You go make sure Happy doesn't kill us for being late.”

Peter gave him a dazzling smile as he threw his backpack over his shoulders, leaving to go find Happy. 

After that, Harley went to go find Flash. He was in front of his locker, messing with a graphing calculator. 

“Hi, Flash.” 

“Hi, Harley!” Flash said, clearly shocked but also strangely excited. 

“Hi, Flash,” Harley repeated, incredibly awkward. “I uh… I wanted to invite you to movie night tonight with Peter, MJ, Betty, Ned and I. At Stark Tower. It was Peter's idea to ask you, so you should… do it. I think.”

“Really?” Flash shouted, eyes wider than Harley had ever seen before. Upon realizing his volume, he winced and lowered his voice. “That sounds really great. I’d love to.”

Before Harley could stop himself, the words were tumbling out of his mouth. “Do… do you like Peter? Like… romantically?”

As comically wide as Flash’s eyes had seemed before, they only grew in size at the question. “No! I just wanna be friends with him.” 

Harley nodded thoughtfully. “Right… just curious.” 

“I’m not doing anything to get in your way, if that’s what you’re asking, man.” Flash put his calculator back into his locker and picked up his backpack. 

“What? I.. I never said anything about that. I was asking if _you_ liked him, just out of curiosity.” Harley stammered. “And concern! Concern for my friend, in a friendly, concerned way.” 

Flash rolled his eyes, shooting Harley an almost fond smile. “I’m not blind, Harley. I see the way you look at Peter.” 

Harley put his head in his hands and whined, leaning his back against the nearest locker in misery. “Is it really that obvious?” 

“I think the only one who hasn't noticed is Peter himself,” Flash replied. 

Harley sighed, adjusting the straps on his bag. “Just don't tell him, please.” 

He prayed that Flash would keep his mouth shut. A smaller, quieter part of Harley prayed he wouldn't, desperate for Peter to know.

“I won’t, but I’m pretty sure-”

“I’ll see you tonight.” Harley cut him off, then turned to practically run out of the hallway.

“Right…” Flash trailed off. 

\---

“Stop laughing!” 

“I live vicariously through your teenage drama, this is entertainment for me,” Tony said, grabbing a handful of popcorn in enthusiasm. 

Peter huffed and snatched the bowl away from him. “They’ll be here any minute, so shut up and don't embarrass me.”

“Since when have you cared about being embarrassed in front of your friends?” 

“I don’t,” Peter said. “Not usually. But a new guy is hanging out with us. And in general, I would prefer it if you don't tell stories about me to _anyone._”

“A new guy, huh?” Tony waggled his eyebrows. “Interesting…”

“It’s not like _that_, Tony!” Peter hissed. “Look, he used to bully me. But now he’s trying to be a better person. Whatever, there's no way I’d date him.”

“Then who is it that you want to impress?” Tony asked. He wore a maniacal grin, evidence that he already knew the answer to his own question. “Not Ned, you’ve known him forever. Not Michelle, because nothing impresses that girl. Not Betty either. No..” 

Peter blushed bright pink. “Shut up! He’s like two rooms away, _shut up!_”

“You like Harley! You want to impress Harley! Oh, young love!” Tony sang. He already knew about Peter's crush, why did he have to be so obnoxious about it? “C’mon, admit it!”

“Fine, yes, I like him,” Peter said, shifting from side to side. That was a very nice way of saying he wanted to sweep Harley off his feet and kiss him for hours on end. “Don't you dare say a word.” 

“Wouldn't dream of it!” Tony replied, but his ecstatic grin and noisy laugh seemed to say otherwise. “It’s just that you’ve known him for months now and done a myriad of embarrassing things in his presence already. No biggie.”

As if he was summoned, Harley returned to the room in that exact instance. “What’s up, Perfect Parker?”

Peter groaned. Harley beamed. 

“Old man, what’s your vibe?”

“You live in my house and yet still insult me?” Tony shook his head in disappointment. “You’re not invited to my birthday party.”

“I’ll just go as Peter’s plus one,” he shot back, grabbing a chip out of one of the bowls. 

“It’s a date!” Peter said, before he could stop himself. 

Harley slammed his hip into the edge of the counter and yelped in pain. 

“Are you alright?” Peter immediately asked, placing a feather-light hand on Harley’s arm.

Harley cursed breathily before replying, cheeks beautifully pink. “I just didn't… see it.” 

“The counter?” That was impossible. The island was huge and Harley had been living there for a while. 

Harley gave him an unfairly charming pained smile, blue eyes gleaming. “Yes?” 

Peter rolled his eyes, but found himself grinning regardless. It was hard not to around Harley.

Tony raised a single amused eyebrow. “Okay… I’m gonna get out of your hair, then. Have fun, dorks.” 

He sauntered back to the elevator, humming to I Won’t Say I’m in Love from Hercules. 

“That was weird,” Harley said. “He never leaves us alone without making fun of us.”

“He made fun of me plenty while you were gone,” Peter muttered. 

“Thank you for coming early and taking the brunt of the teasing,” Harley said, both truly comedic and entirely sincere. “What was he making fun of you for?” 

“Uh… nothing important?” Peter managed, but it sounded enough like a question that Harley looked confused. Before he could press more, FRIDAY announced the arrival of Ned, the group’s designated chauffeur, and therefore everyone else.

“You guys all got in okay?” Harley questioned.

“I still can't believe I have a BRONZE level Stark Industries Clearance Card now,” Flash said reverently, turning the little keycard in his hands. “This is really cool, you guys.” 

“Far more importantly, what movie are we gonna watch?” MJ asked, already pilfering through the fridge. She popped open a can of pop and took a long drink. “Nothing horror, I’m not in the mood.” 

“I’m never in the mood for a horror movie,” Harley shuddered. 

Last movie night, they watched The Shining and several other classic horror films. Because of that, Harley had spent most of the night curled up in Peter's arms, hiding his face from the screen.

Peter loved horror movies.

“How about something funny, then, like Sharknado?” Betty said. 

“Can we watch all six? I love the one where-” Peter was cut off by Ned’s hand. 

“Don't spoil terrible movies for those of us who really care about them!” Ned pleaded. “I’ve only seen the first.”

“What’s Sharknado?” Flash asked. 

“Gospel,” Harley said. 

“So there's a bunch of sharks, and they all get sucked up into a tornado…” Ned began, but was cut off by Flash. 

“That’s… definitely not possible.”

“That's the point!” Peter said. “They’re total nonsense. You watch to laugh at the sheer number of stupid things they managed to throw in there. Peak comedy, really.”

Flash nodded. “Alright, I’m down.”

FRIDAY set up the movies, and Harley proceeded to delicately pile each and every bowl of snacks onto the coffee table. The lights went off, and they all crashed onto the massive, comfortable couch with a billion blankets and pillows. 

By the time they were in the second movie, the protagonist Fin running away from sharks in the subways of NYC, Peter was beginning to feel a little tired. 

A few weeks of intense crime fighting and tons of homework had left him sleep-deprived and entirely too busy to attempt recovery from it. He adjusted his position so his head fell into Harley’s lap, closing his eyes gently. 

Harley lazily wove his fingers between the strands of hair on the nape of Peter’s neck. His eyes fluttered open and he struggled to relax again, his heart beating so fast and so loud he was almost certain Harley could hear it. 

Harley’s fingers dragged down the side of his face, tracing his jawline, and Peter bit back a pleased sigh. He let his eyes drift closed again, comfortably, and before he knew it, Peter was asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my tumblr is [@high-quality-not](https://high-quality-not.tumblr.com/) come hang out with me there!
> 
> i fucking love this chapter?? idk what to tell you. it's just one of my absolute faves. flash redemption, THAT THING WHERE PETER SPINS HARLEY?? ohhh the romance... thanks again nat ily, mon chaton
> 
> i hope ur having a good weekend, dear reader, and staying healthy. drink some water, get some sleep. <3


	4. empyrean

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hoo hoo boy it's been a hot minute
> 
> well anyway i decided to be nice to [laila](https://disasterwiccan.tumblr.com/) today even though she MURDERED me earlier... called me cool smh who DOES that im not cool at _all_... she did eat vegetables though so i guess there's that
> 
> shoutout to my amazing betas [izzy](https://offbrand-celestial.tumblr.com/) (xoxo lovely) and [nat](https://harleydeservesbetterkeener.tumblr.com)
> 
> hope you enjoy!

A loud alarm startled Peter into the world of the living. He pushed a massive comforter off his chest and slid out of the bed.

His bed, in Stark Tower. All he remembered was falling asleep in Harley’s lap. 

And some faint memory of being carried in Harley’s arms… but that was so pleasant it could very well have been a dream. Peter desperately wished it was real. 

“Hey, FRIDAY?” Peter asked. “What time is it?” 

FRIDAY told him it was seven in the morning, and he stretched until his bones popped. Peter threw on the first clothes he saw and wandered to the living room. 

The bite allowed Peter to function somewhat efficiently, even with barely any sleep, which was especially important because caffeine no longer worked on his heightened metabolism. It unfortunately meant that in the early hours of the morning (7am), he was totally alert while Harley, still half asleep, collapsed onto the couch and curled around Peter. 

As hard as he tried, Peter was torn between preferring Harley’s hair loose or in a ponytail. The long, honey-coloured curls were adorable both ways.

Peter placed a hand gingerly on Harley’s cheek. Harley leaned into it, humming happily. Peter would go to the ends of the earth for him.

Harley looked very peaceful indeed lying there. However, he was definitely about to fall back asleep, and Peter wouldn't have that. He wanted to do something that day: go to some tourist trap or mess around in the lab. Mostly, he wanted to spend time with Harley.

“You know we have school today, right?”

Harley sat up and squinted at him, tilting his head. “Wait, what? No, it’s a day off. I swear it.”

That woke him up. Confused blue eyes blinked at Peter.

“I’m just messin’ with you. We’re free today,” Peter murmured.

Harley sighed contentedly and laid back down. “Kay. FRIDAY, turn on… something.” 

“Don’t do that,” Peter told FRIDAY, and somewhat Harley as well. “I wanna do stuff today.”

“You can do stuff without me today,” Harley yawned. 

“I don't want to, though,” Peter admitted.

Harley sat up straight again, cheeks red and eyes wide as saucers. Peter desperately tried to ignore the way Harley was straddling his lap. His eyes traced parted lips and tousled hair and golden freckles before Peter managed to pull himself out of his fantasies.

After a few moments where the only thing Peter could think about was the sound of his own racing heartbeat, Harley cleared his throat. “I... have an idea for something we could do today.”

“Great!” Peter replied. “I’ll go get changed.”

He was wearing a pair of flannel pajama pants and one of Harley’s shirts, which was at least a size too big for him. As much as Peter enjoyed stealing Harley’s clothes, he probably did have to put on something of his own.

Peter threw his arms around Harley’s waist. The other boy made a small noise of confusion, but still wrapped his legs around Peter as he stood up. Peter savoured the feeling of holding Harley, then shook himself out of his distraction and turned to place Harley gently back onto the couch. 

Harley was staring at him in amazement, cheeks pink. “Wha… How did you do that?” 

Peter smirked at Harley’s voice cracking. “I may not look like it, but I do have muscles, Harls.”

Harley looked like he was about to say something else, but stopped himself. 

Peter cleared his throat. “Well, I’m going to go get changed now.”

“Me too,” Harley said, stretching his arms over his head. Peter admired the strip of tanned torso revealed by the action, then mentally chided himself for doing so. 

After he had pulled on a pair of ripped jeans and a Midtown hoodie, he asked FRIDAY where Harley was. 

“Best Boss is waiting for you outside the Tower,” FRIDAY replied. Peter thanked her and made his way to the entrance, where he found the boy in question.

Harley stood at the edge of the sidewalk, leaning against a motorcycle. One hand scrolled through his phone, while the other lazily played with the end of his ponytail. He wore a dark grey tank top and a leather jacket, with matching skinny jeans and a pair of those off brand vans he was so partial too. Harley looked like the embodiment of badass.

Peter felt his mouth water a little just looking at him. He walked up towards him, placing a hand on Harley’s shoulder to get his attention. “Harls, since when do you have a motorcycle?”

“I saved up from a bunch of odd jobs in Rose Hill and the old man shipped it up here for me. He’s a beauty. I call him Spidey.” 

Peter blushed bright red. “A-And why that name?” 

Harley shrugged in a certain way; always one shoulder moving up and the other remaining still. He was totally oblivious as to why Peter was so embarrassed. “He’s red, blue & black. Plus, Spider-Man is hot as hell. I’ve been saying so for basically forever.”

“Right, yeah. So… where are we taking him?” 

Harley’s cool demeanour was suddenly broken by the happy smile on his face. “Well, you're always talkin’ about that little churro place you like. I figured you could show me where to go?”

“That sounds great.”

Harley hopped on the motorcycle and turned to Peter expectantly. Peter bit his lip and did the same. 

“There’s a handle on the back of the-” Harley cut himself off as Peter wrapped his arms tight around the other boy’s waist. “T-That works too.” 

Peter nuzzled into his shoulder a little, overjoyed to be touching Harley but ashamed at his own lack of self-control. 

If he didn't want Harley to catch wind of his massive crush, he had to stop being so touchy with him when he wasn't with anyone else. 

Logically, that would be the correct course of action. 

But Peter didn't want to follow it. Even though Peter was a scientist, and a superhero, and a generally smart kid with a voice of reason, he often forgot how to handle himself around Harley.

That was most clear in that he had fallen for Harley at all, when he should have known better. 

“Are there helmets?” Peter asked, realizing he probably needed one. 

“Uh, yeah,” Harley stuttered. His voice cracked in the middle of the ‘yeah’. Peter found it adorable. 

Harley handed him a helmet and placed his own on in the meantime. Peter struggled with the strap more than a little, and every time Harley tried to help him fasten it, he laughed. Peter was uncontrollably ticklish. When he had finally attached it, he wrapped his arms back around Harley’s waist. And if Peter focused on the stomach he could feel through the fabric more than anything else, he couldn't be faulted. 

Peter explained the location of the churro place and Harley revved the engines. Spidey the motorcycle purred as they made their way through the streets. The wind was brisk and Peter, who wore only a thin Midtown hoodie, found himself holding Harley tighter for warmth. They pulled up next to the stall, and Harley, ever the gentleman, helped Peter off the motorcycle. Peter handed him the helmet with a smile. 

“That was awesome,” he breathed. Harley’s cheeks were flushed pink, but it was probably from the wind, Peter thought. He expected him to say something or walk over and order some churros. Harley just watched him, seemingly too dazed to do anything else. 

Peter offered him a hand. As Harley placed his own in Peter’s, Peter intertwined their fingers. He pulled the other boy towards the churro stand, the scent of cinnamon sugar and chocolatey goodness saturating the air.

“Two regular churros and a cup of chocolate, please,” he said, holding up two fingers on the hand that wasn't preoccupied by being tangled with Harley’s.

The old lady smiled. “Always fresh ones for you, kid.” She wrapped two in a paper holder and gave them to Peter.

Harley pulled out his wallet and paid before Peter could say a word. 

“I could’ve paid, y’know,” Peter grumbled, pouting at Harley. 

Harley smiled, a little exasperated but mostly fond. “I wanted to pay, Peter.” 

What kind of gentleman bullshit? Peter's cheeks were burning. 

He led Harley to a nearby stoop and took a seat. Harley, still holding his hand, carefully extracted a churro from within the paper. He was fixated on Peter the entire time.

“I like the way your hand fits in mine,” he said, thoughtfully. Harley’s cheeks flushed bright red as though he hadn't meant to say anything at all. He laughed uncomfortably. 

Peter looked away, heart in his throat, but he didn't let go.

They sat on the stoop together eating their churros, each bite a sweet harmony of spices and chocolate. Peter couldn't stop looking at Harley. He kept licking the cinnamon sugar off the fingers on his free hand and Peter tracked the motion with his eyes, amazed.

“These’re really good!” Harley mumbled through a mouthful of churro. 

“What did I tell ya?” 

Harley smiled, lackadaisical, stretching his legs out to take up as much room on the stoop as he could. “Always right as usual, Parker. That’s why I need your help! I have an idea for something to do in the lab.” 

Peter nodded encouragingly, and Harley explained his plan to build webshooters for Spider-Man that could shoot glitter webs. 

“I asked the guy himself what he thought, and he loved the idea.” 

Peter distantly recalled telling Harley glitter webs would annoy the _shit_ out of Tony about a week prior during another one of his midnight escapades as Spider-Man. “I love the idea too.”

“I figure we just take the mechanism and modify it to create a normal webshooter, but like, with an attached confetti cannon,” Harley said. “Then I’ll need your help, Perfect Parker, to create the glitter webs and test them. Should be fun, if we don't end up completely coated in our work.” 

“Glitter gets everywhere,” Peter warned. “Trust me. I’ve helped Morgan with school projects. I still find that shit in the bottom of my bag.”

“Well, it would be a funny joke, but I also think it could be helpful to Spider-Man,” Harley said. “As like, a distraction in a fight or something. He’d figure out some creative way to use ‘em…”

Peter tossed the remainder of his churro in his mouth. Harley, who had already finished, glanced at the cup of chocolate still in his hands.

“I dare you to drink it,” They both said, at the same time, then collapsed into giggles. 

“Okay, alright,” Peter wheezed. “We can split it!”

Harley went first, lifting his pinky finger to demonstrate his class as he drank the chocolate.

Peter laughed, then took the remainder. Even his heightened metabolism couldn't quite stop the ensuing sugar high.

His dizzy head wanted him to kiss Harley, to taste all that cinnamon sugar still sticking to his crush’s bottom lip. 

He ignored it. He ignored his thoughts on the stoop, and on the way back, and in the lab. 

\---

“We should make lightsabers while we’re here!” Harley spun in his chair, arms whirling around until he was back to back with Peter. He spun one last time to look closely at his crush.

Peter furrowed his brows, tongue sticking out as he focused on the chemical formula before him. “Hold on a sec…” 

Harley nodded, content to just watch him write the formula and stir his little beaker. He leaned his head on Peter’s shoulder and gently closed his eyes, letting himself relax before he was jolted back into reality by Peter cheering at his finished formula. 

“This should work, just have to test it!” 

“Right!” Harley stood and mock saluted him as he grabbed a webshooter prototype from the other side of the room. “So here's what I got. It's one of Spidey’s webshooters, but with a little confetti cannon on top that I made by downsizing the repulsors on Tony’s Pride Month Iron Man Suit.” 

Peter nodded excitedly, holding out the beaker of web solution. 

“If we just pour some’ah this in here,” Harley took the beaker and dumped an unceremonious amount of the liquid inside into the webshooter. “Then stuff the top part with glitter… it should work perfectly!” 

He pressed down on the little button and a huge web sprung forth, glimmering so bright he could hardly stand to look at it. 

Peter picked him up and spun him around, whooping ecstatically. Harley laughed into his shoulder, holding on for dear life. 

“It’s amazing, Harls!” Peter said. 

“Now can we try to make lightsabers?” Harley pleaded. “I wanted to make them ages ago, but you were busy with Flash…”

“Aw, are you jealous?” Peter asked. He pinched Harley’s cheek as Harley huffed out a defensive, clearly dishonest no. 

“Harley, I would love to make lightsabers with you. How would we go about doing that?” 

Harley immediately launched into his first idea, explaining all the little details as best he could. When it came to mechanisms like those, he couldn't stop himself from getting excited. Harley knew his hands were flying all over the place, his hair probably bouncing in every direction as he paced around the lab. 

Peter seemed interested anyway, listening eagerly.

“You’re so smart, Harley,” Peter murmured, a little dreamily. 

Harley felt his cheeks flush a little in excitement. Peter wasn't making eye contact anymore; he was looking down, his gaze centered on nothing. His eyelashes fluttered as he suddenly looked up, gazing into Harley’s eyes, and Harley would do anything for him.

He found himself pressed against the table. All he could see, all he could smell, all he could feel was Peter. Peter’s eyes trained on his, Peter’s shampoo that smelled amazingly good, Peter’s hands on either side of Harley’s hips, pinning him to the table. He shuddered. It took every single bone in his body to stop him from taking Peter’s face in his hands and kissing him with everything he had. 

Peter’s eyes searched his own, and suddenly flicked to look at his lips. Harley’s heart leapt up his throat, and he _hoped_. 

Beyond everything, he hoped. He dreamed. He wished. And maybe once, just once, someone was listening, because a surge of confidence filled him.

Harley held his breath, and leaned forward, and-

Abbie burst into the lab, several tickets in hand. The moment was over. Peter took a few large steps back, avoiding eye contact with either Keener sibling.

“Uh….” Abbie looked uncomfortable, but took it in stride. “Okay, so Tony and Pepper are going to this gala thing in a couple weeks and they want all three of us to come.”

“They know we don't have, like, any fancy clothes, right?” Harley asked.

“I’ve never owned anything worth more than ten bucks,” Peter added. 

“They’ll get us fancy clothes and stuff! It’ll be great,” Abbie said, placing two tickets on the table next to them. “It’s in Los Angeles, but most of the Avengers and their families will be there too.”

“So Lila’ll be there?” Harley teased. 

Abbie blushed bright red and turned away from him before replying. “She told me she's wearing a suit.”

Peter snorted with laughter at the dreamy look in Abbie’s eyes. “Are you gonna finally ask her out?”

Abbie blushed deeper, if that was possible, and shot him a glare. Harley, having known her forever, could read it to mean something along the lines of “Shut up, she doesn’t even like me back, and you're a total hypocrite,” the last half of which made absolutely no sense. 

“Aw, you’re just so cute!” Harley cooed. He gave Abbie a mocking kissy face. “You like Lila! You like her so much!” 

Abbie glared at him, but her warm cheeks gave away how she truly felt. She turned on her heel and left, flipping Harley off as she went.

Harley sighed wistfully, deceptively cheerful considering what he said. “If Lila hurts my sister, I’ll kill her!”

“Clearly you haven't spoken to Lila lately. She's head-over-heels for Abbie. No way they’d ever hurt each other.” 

“You underestimate the Keener dumbassery?” 

“Of course not,” Peter said. “If Lila hurts Abbie, I will gladly help you plan and commit murder.” 

“Going premeditated!” Harley whooped. He then laid his forehead on Peter’s shoulder. It crooked his neck a little uncomfortably, but Peter smelled so goddamn good that he was willing to suffer through it. “That's first-degree, baby!”

Peter rolled his eyes, but a huge smile took up the bottom half of his face. 

“So about this whole gala thing,” Harley said, shifting so his jaw rested on Peter’s collarbone. “How the fuck do you do fancy shit?” 

“I’m not from the Upper East Side, Harls,” Peter replied. “And as stated before, I be broke.”

“Tony’s buying us shit though,” Harley mused. “Goddamn, I bet you’ll look really good in a suit, too.”

He did not mean to say that. He did not mean to say that at all, but he said it anyway.

Harley tried not to dwell on the way Peter blushed from his words, cheeks glowing in embarrassment.

Harley had a lot of thoughts that he tried not to dwell on. Like how he was exactly three inches taller than Peter, just the right height for forehead kisses. Or how Peter wasn’t touchy with anyone else but Harley.

Oh, how he _hoped_. 

He struggled to pull back the way-too-intimate compliment as best he could. “Way better than me, for sure! Perfect Parker, perfect as always.”

Peter turned his head just so, and oh… nothing mattered anymore. Nothing but how goddamn close they were. 

“That’s not true,” Peter whispered, giving him a look. For a moment, Harley was sure he could see his own longing reflected there.

Harley took a deep breath. “Right, yeah, sure.”

He didn't know how much longer he could stand it. Harley had to tell him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you can follow me [@high-quality-not](https://high-quality-not.tumblr.com/) but be warned im very uncool and shitpost 24/7
> 
> thanks so much for reading! i hope you're having fun, dear reader. stay healthier than me, drink some water or something. eat vegebles. they sometimes convince your friends to update their fanfics!!


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